88 Minutes (May 2005)

88 minutes


Time seems to be so important to all of us. Well, maybe to some more than others. Part of my obsession in life is to always get somewhere on time, submit something on time, and basically, know the time. The greater majority of people in this country, don’t seem to value the essence of punctuality, they wear their watches for decoration, and presume that being 30 mins late for anything is normal. Fashionably late, I hope, will one day, no longer be fashionable. But this article isn’t about that, it’s about a different clock men and women are ruled by over the one strapped to their wrist.

The biological clock, yes, you have heard the term ( predominantly from the female sex) and its ticking seem to resonate so loudly in their ears that you end up getting deaf ( and cold feet ) just hearing about it. What is the biological clock exactly? Again I assume most of you are familiar with the term, but the exact meaning escapes you. Better said it may be what’s “implied” when a woman mentions the “tick tock” that don’t stop (sorry for plagiarizing a song lyric). When I was in my late 20’s the term was mentioned often, and even more so now as most of my peers are of an age where this timebomb has caused more panic than one planted in a mall can ensue.

I decided, in the celebration of all things accessible and cyber oriented, to google the term. Woah! What did I hit, about a hundred Neuroscience websites. If you are brain surgeon or a scientific genius and can explain to me the ins and outs of the…uh, suprachiasmatic nucleus (which in the brain serves as the body clocks timekeeper) do bear with me for a moment. Biological rhythmicity and the clock mechanisms that drive biological rhythms are fundamental properties of all groups of cellular life, ranging from prokaryotes ( prokar-what?) to humans. These biological clocks time specific molecular, physiological, and behavioral events to optimize their phase relationships relative to the time of day (circadian) and time of year (circannual).

Ok, MY brain hurts now. Maybe googling the term wasn’t the right way to go about it. Here then is my NON scientific and Female interpretation of what goes through most women’s mind when timekeeping. Babies. She wants to be a mother, she wants to be a healthy, happy, active one, and the older she gets, the harder, medical science has drummed into her head, that’s going to be. In many societies, women feel that the minute they hit their 30’s the childbearing years are diminishing, and for many who want kids, a subconscious PANIC ensues. All of a sudden the woman in your life needs to have ”the talk” and what happens in most men? I will say it again....PANIC.

Now gentlemen, did you actually think that you could stay away from the “talk”? It’s rare in my experience for men to think that the talk is anything but premature. “But we’ve only been going out for…years!” my friends whine. What? 2 years? 20? Here’s what I think, stop your whining and listen to what she has to say. If she mentions biological clock then cut her some slack, she has medical proof to back her claims up. If you had once viewed her as the mother of your children ( such a cheesy movie line I think) then you better get a move on too buddy. If you’re really not ready to be a husband and a father, or, just a father, then let her know why, if she asks for a deadline (read: implied ultimatum) then ask for some “Time” to think. And really, really do. If you’re not dating someone fresh out of highschool or even college, then be mature enough to take her concerns and fears into consideration.

We all need time. Time to make decisions, time to plan, time to reflect, and time to take the next step. If you have decided that yes, she is THE one who you would like to share a life and a family with ( considering these are really what you want at the present stage) then let her know. Time starts now.

And Justice For All (April 2005)

…And Justice for All

You know the clichés: What goes around, comes around. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. You reap what you sow. Enough? Let’s see their relevance in this story.
“Ten years,” my friend heaved with a sigh. “Ten years and now he won’t even look at me!”
Wait, a little background first: a couple dating exclusively since the mid-90s. Ten years of togetherness. How could it not be love? They traveled together, they shared dreams of the future, had the same expectations, enjoyed each other’s company… so what happened?
They fought. He said something nasty, she said something nastier back (gentlemen, in terms of verbal poison, the woman almost always has more venom.) He slammed the phone down and never bothered to pick it up again, despite her frantic attempts to patch things up. A week later, she spots him having dinner with new girl in tow. She approaches them in greeting (or shock.) He glances her way, and then makes a huge, obvious effort to glance away.
Ouch. Sound familiar? Could you have been a cast member in a similar scenario? I tried consoling my friend as I too was in shock, but more questions kept bubbling up in my head. I bit my tongue lest they come out. Thankfully, through inexplicable female mind reading, she started verbalizing what I had wanted to ask.
The questions flew out in a stream: You think he was already seeing her prior to the fight? Why had he said such a nasty thing to me to begin with? Why did he look the other way? Why did he ignore me?
I didn’t have any answers for her, but I was getting upset. Even though I didn’t want to add more emotion to this already charged situation, I opened my mouth and came out with probably the dumbest thing I could have said, another cliché: “Cheer up, it’s not the end of the world.”
I cringed the moment the words left my lips and I was sure it did nothing to console her. What I really wanted to say was “He ignored you because he’s a dickhead and should have the living shit kicked out of him”. Maybe it was one too many mafia-oriented shows in my DVD collection, but I was suddenly channeling Tony Soprano. Through my friend’s hurt and confusion, I could only see red.
That night, after desperately trying to stop my friend from drowning her sorrow in dessert (as she would later come to regret it) I wondered what I could possibly do to get her ex to come to his senses --- or at least impart a little “revenge” along the way. Though sorely tempted to construct a makeshift voodoo doll in his image, I decided instead to turn to the law. No, not vigilante law a la Dog, the Bounty Hunter (who by the way needs some serious sunblock) or via a lawsuit, but something more universal: the law of karma.
In Buddhist teaching, the law of karma says only this: `for every event that occurs, there will follow another event whose existence was caused by the first, and this second event will be pleasant or unpleasant according as its cause was skillful or unskillful.'
A skillful event is one that is not accompanied by craving, resistance or delusions; an unskillful event is one that is accompanied by any one of those things. Just replace skillful with positive and unskillful with negative, so, if you bring joy into one’s life, you get joy back, and if you bring hurt and pain …well, it’s self-explanatory.
Basically, whatever was going to teach him a lesson had already been set into motion. I know that I will probably never uncover the truth of what triggered my friend’s ex to treat her so callously. I am also aware that the last fight was probably a build-up of old tensions that had gone on for far too long. I also know this: that in any relationship, truth and sincerity have to prevail.
Folks, if there are problems in your relationship you have to bring them up, because your partner is not a mind reader. And should you have attempted to fix things and decided that it is indeed time to move on, the first one who should know is the one person you once said you would love forever and would never want to hurt. Whether or not you believe in karma, you would have at least been fair.
To quote from a CSI episode “The best defense is an honest life”. When you lie, cheat, lash out to hurt, you can be pretty much guaranteed that there’s going to be a snowball of those emotions coming your way.
And for those who have been on the receiving end, and cling to the notion of “Right girl, wrong time”, let me give you my own cliché: “Right girl, wrong time, is STILL the wrong girl.”
A week later my friend and I met up for lunch. She looked fine, even if there was still some hurt, but I had no doubt in my mind that she would be alright. The bloodthirst for revenge on my part had lessened seeing that the pain had in fact helped her move on. As she eyed some chocolate cake in the dessert tray, I was confident that one day she would indeed, have her just desserts. Hare Om.

People I Know ( March 2005)

People I Know


As the month of Valentine’s passes, I prepare to be deluged with love stories from people I know, people they know, and people that the people they know, know. There will be stories of love at first sight, engagements, relationship breakthroughs and, break-ups.

“Did you hear” is a common phrase I have come to expect over the telephone or over a plate of appetizers. Even if some stories sound like urban myths, most are good, juicy, private material for about 5 mins. After that, with the speed that gossip travels around the city, the stories become common knowledge. In some cases, they are even plagiarized to fit other people’s retelling of events.

For example, have you heard about the one wherein Mr. Non-Committal realizes the error of his ways when he finally wakes up to realize he’s about to lose the love of his life? I’m sure you have. And if you are a male reader (which you most likely are, if you’re reading this magazine) this story may have been used on you in order to get YOU to commit.

How about the one where this couple had been brother-sister-type friends for many years, until that fateful day their hormones kick in and BAM! – it’s true love. Yeah, it happens all the time and it’s normally justified by the saying that the best relationships are based on true friendship.

There is also the one of Person X ends up with Person Y‘s boyfriend/ girlfriend/ husband/ wife. Ho-hum, you say. It’s scandalous at first, but in 10 years no one’s going to care. In matters of love, if it’s not hot off the press, it’s certainly old news.

I was wondering though if one’s personal relationship should really be for public consumption. I guess that’s dependent on the people involved. Most friends dish out the details to others in moments of kilig, although I think it’s more apparent with women rather than men. Having been privy to several boys’ nights out, I’ve observed that the recounting of the start or end of a relationship is normally greeted with feigned indifference and a few congratulatory (or sympathetic) pats on the back.

Some men don’t see the big deal in spewing out the details. Some may even be embarrassed when asked to re-enact the scene. Bear in mind that the majority of those who even bother to ask for a recap are women. Ask a woman for the 100th time and the telling is as vivid and passionate as the first time, while the converse is true for break-up stories where the sparkling eyes are replaced by flashing, angry ones. I have to ask men to be a little more patient with their women when poked and prodded to retell over and over again how they met, how he proposed or how he had a change of heart.

Guys, women in general like stories, and they like to hear the details. If you want to remain in their good graces, it won’t hurt to indulge them every once in a while. And if you find yourself in the very uncomfortable situation of being the token male at a girlfriend’s event …then muster up all the skills you learned from your high school plays and retell your stories with utmost gusto. Just try not to exaggerate, and remember to pepper your story with the occasional joke.

It is precisely because of this that the idea of an all-girls or all-boys night out becomes appealing. We all need to be with a bunch of people who we are completely at home with, who would either welcome our stories, or care enough about us and not intrude on our privacy. Still, there are friends who relentlessly interrogate us until they get every single, juicy detail, while there are some who are content with a simple “Yup, we’re ok” or “Yup, it’s over.”

Sometimes, it’s the other way around: the man is the one who likes to blab and the woman the one who prefers to keep things quiet. This kind of man ends up being the center of attention among his girl’s girlfriends, while the woman is viewed by the man’s buds as a rather ideal girlfriend.

One must be prepared though, that even if years have passed, and the scandal factor of the situation has already paled in comparison to more recent “couplings” or breakups, that there will always be someone who will ask the inevitable question “So, what happened?” Delay by taking a deep breath, and hope that your partner will take the reins and plunge ahead, and yes, try to look like you are still listening. If by chance she looks at you pleadingly, hoping that you will increase the romantic bar by happily recounting the tale then here’s a tip: stay in general mode, and let her come in with the bells and whistles. Trust me, she will. End of story.

Me 

Love and Other Catastrophes ( Feb 2005)

Dog Day Afternoon
By Kat Holigores


I wasn’t quite sure what exactly my friend meant when over lunch one day, she muttered “Men are dogs” (This, I thought, a rather curious thing to say considering we had just gotten around to asking the routine how-are-yous). She looked quite ruffled, and in a feeble attempt to lighten the mood and not wanting to initiate an emotional outburst I happily retorted with “You mean they’re not Martians anymore?”

Instead of a laugh I was met by a growl and polite, bordering on uncomfortable, silence from the rest of my female friends. So, men are dogs, and women are bitches? I thought, but held my tongue with the intent of getting through lunch in one piece. My friend was obviously having relationship issues, either with one man or with a bunch of them so glib remarks weren’t going to help.

I wondered if I had been a little insensitive responding to her the way I did. I am aware that there exist many frustrations in trying to make a relationship work and I have yet to discover a hard and fast rule of thumb.

In recent years we have been hit by a massive deluge of books, videos, talk shows, seminars, magic miracle chain emails that promise a better you and yours. Any relationship, especially between you and your significant other, is promised an elixir based on the experiences and wisdom of a phalanx of experts out there. In spite of easy accessibility to said elixir, I have stayed clear of the Men are from Mars Women are from Venus alien invasion, ignored (and probably broken) The Rules, and turned a blind eye to Why Men Don’t Listen and Why Women Can’t Read Maps. When it comes to personal relationships, I decide to wing it.

My friend’s remark still remained in my head the next day as I passed by a bookstore looking at everything from Unconditional Love to Tough Love, from Deepak Chopra to Dr. Phil, it seemed there was nothing really there to use as basis for the parallelism between the human race and the canine. So, having not satisfied my curiosity, I decided to go back to the source and give my friend a call, keeping my fingers crossed that she had already forgotten what took place over lunch.

“It’s true!” she exclaimed over the phone, “In fact, I was advised to get this book that best explains why men ARE dogs!” the title? “How To Make Your Man Behave In 21 Days Or Less Using The Secrets Of Professional Dog Trainers”. I laughed out loud in disbelief, forgetting my effort at being more sensitive. “You’re kidding right?” I said.

“No, I’m not” she responded firmly, and then told me she had already placed an order online. Not wanting to get growled at again (and possibly bitten), I decided to shelve my distrust for ‘relationship’ answering books and asked to borrow it as soon as she was done.

How to Make your Man Behave turned out to be a very easy, amusing read. It was a little (literally) 92-page heavily illustrated hardbound manual written by Karen Salmansohn an ad writer and creative director, and illustrated by Alison Seiffer. There is no indication at all anywhere in the book that either women are relationship experts, or dog trainers, still, the short lessons contained in the book should provide insight to those who are seeking it, and a good laugh to those who, like me, judged a book by its cover/title.

To fully benefit from the lessons in the book, you must first change any word pertaining to dog to man…from puppy, to mutt, to canine. In other words, a pack of dogs…is a pack of….men. This extends to actions associated with dogs i.e. “petting” and “wagging its tail”, as well as certain “Doggy Styles” which explains types of dogs to choose depending on ones needs.

All in all, the book targets not only dogs, but even their trainers. Trainers have to understand that the method in understanding their dog is not solely based on WHAT you tell them and WHEN (punishment for wrongdoing should be immediate) but more importantly HOW. “Never make a habit of yelling or in time your dog will NEVER LISTEN to what you have to say.” I think, regardless of your position on the maturity food chain (canine or human) being yelled at is never a pleasant or positive experience.

The similarities pointed out on why men and dogs share similar psychological patterns range from the deep, (dogs like to move around in packs), to the crass yet funny “A dog believes there’s no such thing as spending too much time catering to one’s genitalia.” And may prove insightful for inexperienced and experienced dog trainers (not to mention a good laugh).

I must admit, that this was a very enjoyable first dip into the pool of relationship-oriented books, and for dogs and dog lovers alike, certainly a couple of lessons worth chewing on. Now if I can only get them to heel.